The Change
by The.Clown.That.Smiles
Summary: Months into Alan being back human, Edgar has to deal with his own set of fangs, but when the thirst becomes too much to bear, one night changes everything.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer - Don't own the lost boys_

_I usually hate doing more than one multi chapter fic at a time, but this idea came and it had to be done. Anyway, so I'm not sure about this one, but if you guys like it then I'll continue, if not..._

* * *

Flowers.

The scent of them lingered all around him, and Alan could only stare downwards, not sure of what to think of them, or to think of everything in general. Why were there flowers? Why did they have to put them down? They looked just so stupid to him, but he knew why. It was because Edgar was dead and it was his funeral, the funeral he was attending along with others, some he didn't know or couldn't even place. No, it didn't matter though, because they were all fooled, but Alan knew the truth. Very few did, only those who had known Edgar well, who had known what the Frog brothers were or had been. Zoe knew, knew what had really happened, but she played her part well. She stood some distance behind him, grief covering her face as she stared straight ahead, looking on in silence. It fooled everyone, all but him. They knew though, they knew the truth that the others weren't allowed to know. It was still silly as his eyes moved over all the flowers with un interest.

Alan let them though, and he didn't comment when the flowers were thrown down onto his grave. He merely watched them in silence, ignoring the sympathetic flashes that were given when their eyes landed on him. A pat was given on the back, words of condolences formed past their lips, and other stuff came that merely only irritated him.

Some had cried, and some just stood around, faces blank as they listened on in silence. Others talked amongst each other in quiet whispers, old friends catching up at a funeral, and Alan gave them a dark look. They didn't know and they thought it was all real and, even though he knew the truth, it was still some respect that needed to be shown. The respect was being shown now most had left. Alan was showing his respect to the old Edgar, to the one that had died, but he just felt numb as he continued looking down at his grave. Nothing but numb as he stared at all the lilies, tulips, and roses upon his grave. As if Edgar ever cared for flowers. Edgar fucking hated flowers. They would have been torn to pieces if he were ever given any but, now, now things had changed. It was all for show, so he let the flowers stay.

A small sneer came out of nowhere as his eyes raked over all of them again, but it left within a second and his eyes became blank. It was still settling in, still slowly sinking in, and Alan knew there was nothing he could do. It hurt, it hurt lots but, right at that moment, he had more important things to worry about. There was no time to stop and grieve. Alan had to silently do that, and concentrate and carry on moving, because it was going to happen sooner or later.

A sigh left his lips and, throwing a black rose down onto the grave, he walked away, not looking back but just continuing to walk. Edgar was out there somewhere, and Alan knew it was only a matter of timing until they came across each other again. Only this time it was going to be so much more different. There would be no warm greetings, not that it was ever like that, but there would be nothing nice about the situation. The only thing he would see was that blood, those sharp fangs, and the red eyes of his once brother staring back at him.

Edgar wasn't dead. He was a part of the un dead and, sooner or later, he was going to make an appearance.

* * *

_''Edgar?''_

_Something was wrong and Alan froze, key dangling in hand. He was greeted with darkness for one, but that had been happening for some nights, weeks even. No, it was something else, something else that caused all the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end. His eyes searched through the darkness of the trailer, and a wince crossed his face when the keep dug into his palm, peeling away skin. A smell assaulted his nose seconds later, faint, but his heart seemed to stop when he caught it. He stopped breathing altogether. Edgar was there, right in front of him in the darkness. Alan couldn't see, but he felt him there, watching him closely. And it wasn't good either.  
_

_''Ed..'' .Alan shook his head, a look of unsurity coming upon his face. ''Is there...''_

_The light suddenly came on and eyes closed for a second. They snapped back open and everything seemed to stop when he saw Edgar, saw his bloodied face, and eyes burning a bright red. His eyes locked onto Alan's, and they were begging, pleading, screaming. They were shouting at him to help, but Alan had become frozen solid, unable to form a word, unable to say anything. Edgar moved a step forwards, horror and disgust upon his face, though his eyes seemed to say something different as they looked at him. It was when his eyes moved behind Edgar did words form. It was Alan's turn to display horror and fright.  
_

_''Jesus Christ!''_

_Edgar was suddenly upon him, hands grabbing fistfuls of his jacket, eyes begging. ''I haven't, Alan. It was just a bit, but I stopped, and..'' .His eyes flickered from brown back to red. ''I fucking need it, I need it so bad'' Somewhere between a mixture of a half sob and growl formed past his lips, and he swallowed, eyes burning back red. ''Help me, Alan. Right now!''_

_''Edgar'' His eyes were still trained on the girl who lay upon the floor, wound bleeding on her neck, body as still as a statue. Slowly, so slowly they moved towards Edgar. ''You stopped''_

_''It was a gulpful and...'' he moved back, taking Alan with him. ''You fucking promised me, Alan. You promised that I would...you've done nothing, all of this for nothing!'' It was a vicious snarl that came as he said those words and Alan was instantly let go. He started to smash things, breaking everything, all the while shouting insults at Alan._

_''Three fucking months, and I can't take it anymore!'' He moved in a blur, appearing back in front of Alan who stood as still as a rock. ''What have you been doing with your fucking promises? Three months, three months, and I'm starving. I'm so fucking hungry, Alan.''_

_Alan grabbed him, shaking his head, telling him to calm down. Edgar's eyes were a light with anger, starvation, and hate. He shouldn't have left him, he should have never left him. He knew it was hard for Edgar, harder than what it was for him, but Edgar, ever so stubborn, forced him out, told him he couldn't be with him all the time. Alan gave in and left with worry, not knowing that one hour could have changed everything. It did become harder down the line, no matter how much bottled blood he would have consumed. It was the real stuff he craved for. Alan had felt it too back then, but he had fought, just fought the monster away. Only it was harder with Edgar for a lot of reasons. Unlike Alan, he didn't control his emotions as well, which was the one weakness and disadvantage he held, but it also increased the hunger, made the thirst all the more worse. Alan had mastered all the emotions he had felt to begin with. They had been pushed away, and it helped, it had helped so much. Edgar had been nothing but angry and hateful for the whole three months and he never listened when Alan told he needed to control his emotions as it wouldn't help. It hadn't, he hadn't listened, but Edgar rarely ever did. _

_Edgar forcefully pushed him away, anger blazing. ''You've done nothing, nothing to help me like you promised.''_

_''Calm down, Edgar.''_

_''Calm down! Calm fucking down.'' He began to pace, that anger increasing. ''You don't fucking understand, you...''_

_They locked gazes, and Alan's eyes narrowed slightly. Oh, he did fucking understand because, although it had been months since the curse had been lifted, he hadn't forgotten, and sometimes he was sure he could still feel it. That unbearable thirst that never left, even when sleep claimed him. Just that need to sooth the burning, aching, hunger, to cool his tongue, to feel the thick, red, blood slide down his throat. Alan had needed it so fucking bad and sometimes he was close to giving in, so close to taking and biting and..just that blood. He was weak, so weak and fucking hungry for blood, but he fought the starvation, fought the blood lust and all the temptations. The monster always fought back too, but the animal blood...it helped some and, pushing the emotions away, all the anger he had felt had been pushed away, and the will to keep strong, to fight, became better, not much, but it helped some. _

_Though Edgar never helped, even though his visits were rare. His heart pounding was like a march of elephants, and it filled his mind, but he smelt wonderful, so tasty and just...alive, and that hunger rose. Alan would talk, his words unwelcome, somewhat cold, just to keep Edgar way. He never did. He stayed, talked, and Alan bit his tongue, tasting his own blood that didn't help the situation. The thought of tasting him came back again, and he would feel his fangs extract, picturing them sliding into Edgar's neck. Hands would clench, sweat would roll, and he would continuously swallow the saliva that would fill his mouth._

_Alan did fucking understand, because he had been through it, felt it all, every thing Edgar was feeling right then, but he knew it was harder._

_All thoughts vanished and their gazes were broken from a groan that filled the silence of the trailer. Edgar froze, as well as Alan. Panic filled her eyes when she sat up, hand at her neck. Alan put his hands up, telling her to be quiet. The response was a deep, frightened, yell, and Edgar's hands came to his ears. He moved towards her, and she scrambled back. Alan's eyes shot to his brother, telling him to go, to leave, but he never, only remained. Words came, more pleading as Alan looked at her. Fright wasn't good for the position Edgar was in, the position Alan and her would surely be in. It was a call, her heart was probably thundering, and her blood...His hand came to her mouth, he pinned himself on top of her, telling her to be quiet. She thrashed wildly underneath him, eyes panicked and filling with tears._

_''Please. Be quiet.'' Alan shook his head, eyes going to Edgar, telling him to get the fuck out. He looked, hunger coming back with a vengeance, eyes turning back a nasty shade of red, and he moved then, the door slamming shut as he fled the trailer. She cried louder, begging him to let her go, that she promised she wouldn't say anything. His hand tightened on her mouth, and he said he would if she kept quiet. She trashed for some minutes, tears falling down her face, until she suddenly became immobile. The hand was removed and as he went to stand, her leg lashed out, hitting straight in the face. Alan crashed backwards into the refrigerator, bowls and utensils falling on top of him._

_She ran out the trailer then and, with a curse, he jumped up, taking chase. He prayed Edgar was far away, somewhere hiding, somewhere away from them. Of course he didn't listen and it all went down when he got outside. He was on top of her, pinning her down to the ground, hand on her throat. Alan ran towards him then, telling him to stop, to get his fucking act together. He never listened and her choked cries of panic echoed in the nights air. Alan tried to pull Edgar away, only to be hit hard so he fell backwards, stunned. _

_''No! Edgar, no!''_

_The world seemed to stop and her cries turned shattering, pained, and full of all the horror and fright Alan had witnessed before. Fangs were lodged into her neck, burying deeper as he began to drink. The crunch came, the hunger increased, and he continued to swallow all of her precious blood. Alan, still stunned, did nothing but watch, fright, hurt, and shock all over his face, just filling inside. She became limp seconds later, and Alan stared, did nothing but just stare at her lifeless corpse. Everything crashed down, and all the work, all the fight he had been doing for Edgar was over, just lost. He turned ever so slowly towards him then, blood covering his face, eyes burning the brightest red he had seen upon Edgar before. He rolled off her, fingers coming to his throat as he tried to bring it all up. It was too late, it was over._

_''Edgar'' Alan moved slowly towards him. ''There's nothing you can...''_

_His expression changed and he was suddenly upon him, fangs digging into his flesh, hands gripping his shoulders tight. There was no emotion upon his face, and Alan swore out, beginning to fight underneath him which got a, deep, vicious, snarl to pass Edgar's lips. He suddenly froze, snarl stopping, and Alan stopped as well. He was off him, and he fled then, disappearing into the shadows. _

_That time Edgar didn't return._

_

* * *

_Right, so that was short to get everything rolling and, well, it's better to have the first chapter of a fic somewhat short. Tell me what you think. Did you like it, did it keep you interested, and would you want to read more? _  
_


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, so I apologise for the shortness of this. I'm just trying to get into it and...It's just short. Also, there will be a lot of backtracking and such.

* * *

''Why are you here? I told you to stay away.'' There came a pause and the voice became stone cold. ''What part of that are you having trouble in understanding?''

There came no answer, like always, and Alan waited, hand loosening on the knife ever so slightly. Of course he wouldn't have listened. It was typical of Edgar to never listen, to always do what he pleased. The knife was put down, and Alan's eyes moved slowly along the wall, face empty of any emotion, though there seemed to be a harsh, cold, look in his eyes. He remained still, waiting, and listening to the smallest movements Edgar made. The chains on the wall clinked together when he lightly banged his fists down onto the table seconds later, sending vibrations all along the floor.

Edgar remained unfazed by the frustration he knew Alan was feeling at him being there. His eyes remained still, calm as stone, and he watched Alan, his movements, although his back was still to him. Without knowing, a revolting look filled his face when the foul rotting stench rolled all around him, only becoming worse, stronger with every passing minute. It began to become imprinted into his mind, sticking onto him like flies and maggots would to a dead rotting fish, and he turned away for a second, hiding the expression, even though Alan paid him no attention. He still remained still, bent over the table, hands resting on the edge of the wood. His fingers dug into the table, peeling away flakes of old gloss. A splinter slipped underneath his nail, sinking into the skin, and a small droplet of blood spilled down his pale finger. Alan lifted it then, examining it with that same empty expression. That rising of the harshness took over, and he pulled the splinter out, flexing his finger for a second.

A small dark look shadowed across his face as his eyes moved over the table. His hand moved then, fingers brushing along all the instruments. Edgar remained still behind him, still lent up against the wall, that same calm expression in his eyes as he watched Alan carefully, almost cautiously. This didn't bother Alan, not really. It didn't bother him that Edgar felt small quantities of fear around him; fear that he would surely give in. It started to fade, all this numbness he had felt within. Now, he wanted Edgar gone, to walk out the door, and feel that satisfaction when it slammed shut behind him. He wanted to hear his boots crunch along the gravel, the door to his truck open, the ignition start…

His hand stopped, and the darkness slipped like a mask coming off a face, concealing everything. Fingers wrapped around the handle, and he slid the blade along the table, letting the sound of varnish peel fill in that silence. In a second, he was cutting, and it was now the sound of flesh being torn that took over. A foreign brutality came into his eyes as he slid the blade along the flesh, watching the blood run along the table, like a tomato being cut upon a board. It was nothing like that. His hand became painted in crimson, and he ignored Edgar altogether, but that anger seemed to rise when he felt him behind him, just standing and watching.

''Care to help me, Edgar.'' His voice was cold, yet empty of anything else at the same time. ''We could have a lot of fun.''

Edgar moved then, and the wooden chimes hanging from the wall came together when his shoulder brushed lightly past them. He stopped and inspected his boots, as if fascinated by them. ''As much as that is appealing to me, Alan.'' Sarcasm dripped from his voice. ''I'll pass.''

He looked up a minute later. ''Nobody is talking.''

Alan continued cutting, and there came no change of expression. Just that same distant, cold look was there. A bitter, yet hateful smile slipped onto his lips as Edgar's words swam in his mind. ''You've already told me this once, Edgar. In fact every time you come here.'' The smile slipped when there came no answer. ''Why are you here?'' The question was asked again, only this time Alan wanted an answer. His eyes became back cold. ''I told you to stay away from here.'' His yanked the blade along the stomach of the dead animal. ''I don't want you here, Edgar.''

There came a sigh and it sounded frustrated and pained to Alan. He continued spilling guts upon the table, but his eyes closed for a second. It was for his own good. Alan really didn't want to see Edgar, not like he was. They were apart, no more connected, but they were becoming more distant. Edgar was slipping further away, and Alan knew it was for the best. How he was, it was definitely for the best. Danger. Yes, he was in danger, as the hunger became worse when Edgar moved around, his scent like a strong perfume in the air. It lingered long after he left, and it was desirable.

The door slammed shut, eyes opened, and Alan continued his work, his way to get food.

* * *

The light streamed in through the blinds and Alan's eyes instantly snapped open. A thud came and his eyes moved downwards. It took him a minute to see what was before him. His hand bent down, retrieving the thing that had fallen. Off him. Alan stopped, inspecting it with a blank gaze. Something he hadn't seen before. His eyes skimmed over the writing, trying to take something in. The book in which he had never laid eyes upon. He turned the page, and another, till his eyes stopped on something. It was small, very few words, but there was no mistaking whose writing that belonged to.

The book was tucked underneath his arm and he stood, eyes raking over everything, seeing, checking for anything. They stopped, and he managed to form one word. ''Edgar.''

* * *

To say she was somewhat surprised at seeing Alan was an understatement. They didn't know each other, not really. It was Edgar who she had loved, Edgar who had been her friend. He was the one she had a weird friendship of a connection with, not Alan. It was only during that time did they start to interact, but that was all. All for Edgar, all about Edgar, just Edgar. But he was gone now. Alan had no reason to bother her, and she didn't mind, didn't care. Now, she pondered on why he was there. It just brought memories back when she saw Alan. The times when her and Edgar would spend hours, leafing through his comics, pricing them, well, more like her, as he sat and inspected his weapons and read things on vampires and other things she wasn't familiar with. Edgar spoke, but she was the one who did the most talking. He...just listened, an odd word being given here and there. At that time, Edgar really wasn't himself, and Zoe knew all about them, all about what he did, and Alan. She knew, she had her own secrets too, but she liked Edgar, enjoyed his company, and what he did for people. She enjoyed helping him, and he interested her with the things he inspected, observed, and looked into. She'd ask things whilst looking and observing, and this seemed to be the only subject that really brought some part of him to life. She hadn't met Alan, and she didn't want to, but when he told her at what he was doing, the rave, she was in.

After, it seemed to get better, not like it once was, as Edgar had said to her, confided in her, but he seemed better. They spent time together, hanging out, eating whilst bending over comics and other things the two liked and, as always, she asked questions. He answered with that same interest, but he seemed more alive, more brighter, and a smirk was even given, and even during that time, she didn't bother with his brother. Sure, they saw each other when he was with Edgar, but there were never any conversations struck up. It was just Edgar she liked, Edgar who was her friend...right until three months later, when the world crashed down on all three of them.

Their friendship was dead now, Edgar was dead now, and she missed him. Zoe missed Edgar a lot those days.

A smile came onto her face, though it never reached her eyes. ''Alan.'' There was no smile given in return and hers slipped when she saw the expression upon his face. He looked tired, like he hadn't long awoke, and judging from the clothes he was in, he hadn't. The same ones he had worn to the funeral, the fake funeral for Edgar. A sad look crossed her face but it disappeared when he moved towards her. She noted the book in his hand, and a curiosity came.

''You were out last night?'' His voice seemed hollow to her ears, and he moved around the counter. His eyes went around for a second, before they went to her. ''Did you?''

A puzzled expression took over and then realisation when his eyes pierced hers. ''Ye…How did…?'' A shake of the head came, silence, and then she shrugged slightly, not really caring. ''Yes, I was. Why?''

The book was slammed down onto the counter, being immediately opened. He looked at her with a seriousness and, with a furrow of the brow, she moved around the counter, sidling up next to him. His finger came down onto the page when he skimmed through it about a quarter of a way through.

Zoë stopped, interest melting altogether. Her eyes met Alan's. ''Am I…''

''So it seems…'' Alan looked back down at the page. ''Edgar paid me a visit last night.'' There was nothing to his voice or face. ''And a little message with this…gift he has given me.''

Zoe swallowed, not knowing what to say. Her voice became a whisper when someone walked into the store.'' Alan?'' She kept her eyes on the book. ''Am I in danger?''

* * *

''It'll be free for you, baby.''

A high pitched laugh came, and eyes narrowed slightly. Her smile exposed the torn skin of her lips, all hard and cracked from the thick lipstick smeared messily around, and her breath fanned towards him; a mixture of whiskey and mints. She lent up against the wall, mouth chomping on the bubblegum she chewed on. Her dark brown eyes might have been pretty once, but they seemed dead now, no light within them. His eyes moved, trailing up her arm, seeing all the light, blodgy, bruises covering her skin. Dark chestnut hair was scraped up into a messy bun, and amongst the hair clips and other tacky frilly things, his eyes made out the needle lurking amongst it all. Junkie. Not that he had to look to know. Just the smell of her told him she was a needle taker, pumping the heroin into her blood. Surprisingly, although she looked like someone who had been sleeping rough in the gutter (which she most likely had) her teeth were a cleanly white, all cared for.

''So, how about it, sugar?'' A flash of the smile came from her and she blew a bubble. Irritation pooled within and his eyes moved towards her face, narrowing a little more. A glint moved within his eyes, and anger bubbled to the surface when she continuously chomped down on her gum like a cow eating grass. Her hand trailed down her cheap corset that was hanging together by pins. It was withdrawn a second later, cigarette and lighter coming with it. The chewing gum was removed from her mouth, being pressed behind her ear, and she brought the cigarette to her lips. He watched in silence, eyes cold and full of an irritation that grew by the minute. The smoke pooled around her, and she moved away from the wall, walking towards him, walking towards the shadows in which he was close by to.

She stopped an inch away from him, and she laughed slightly, cigarette coming to lips once again. He watched her suck on the cancer stick and just as she blew the smoke towards his face, he was grabbing her by hers. His fingers dug hard into her cheeks, making her eyes water for a second, and before she could let out a scream when she saw the monstrous face in which he changed to, she was yanked into the darkness.

* * *

He came out with that same coldness in his eyes, though the irritation had instantly evaporated. Between his fingers was the cigarette in which she had been smoking, and he stopped when it was brought to his mouth, all pink along the butt of it. It was crushed into his hand a second later, becoming nothing but dust. Hands came to pockets and a fresh packet was brought out. Lighting one up, his eyes moved along the street, skimming over the few people out with a look of boredom and coldness. The end of his coat billowed slightly from the light wind that swept towards him, and he began to move then, cigarette coming to lips, eyes moving around with un interest and boredom.

His eyes moved ahead then, and a small narrow came again when his eyes landed upon a petite figure moving, eyes on the ground, right towards him. He didn't move to the side as he got closer, but continued walking, waiting for her to notice. Cigarette was flicked away, and hands came to trench coat pockets, burying themselves deep within. He was still hungry, still pissed off, and all he wanted to do was fucking find someone who tasted a lot better than the whore he had just consumed. He could feel her blood moving around, all the shit with it. It wasn't good to feed on a person who pumped a shit load of drugs into their system, but her voice alone began to piss him off.

Just as he moved another step, she crashed straight into him, the impact making her fall backwards. He could have stopped it, grabbed her if he wanted; instead he watched as she fell to the ground, item in hand skidding along the floor. A blink came, surprise and shock took over, and shaking her head, feeling stunned, her eyes moved slowly up towards him. Cheeks burned red, and another blink came.

''Oh my goodness.'' A wince came when she inspected the cuts and scratches on her hands. ''I'm so sorry. I...'' She looked at the hand in which was offered and then to his blank face, to those eyes that were now calm as they stared at her. She was hauled up and she sharply withdrew her hand from his chilled one. Hands dusted her dress down and an apologetic look came. ''I was in my own world.'' Her eyes looked at him. ''Are you alright?''

He looked at her for some seconds, and his lips moved. ''Absolutely fine.''

A warm smile took over, though the embarrassment was still there. ''Hey, I'm Jasmine.

Those eyes never wavered as he stared. ''Edgar''

A nod came and she bent down, retrieving the book in which she had dropped. ''Nice to meet you. Ummm... '' She stood. ''Look, I work at the little cafe just two blocks away. Butterfly-''

''I know which one'' he answered, voice blank.

''Right. If you ever want a drink, food...go there.'' She shrugged lightly. ''Free of charge for my apology at rudely knocking into you.''

He put on a smirk, though it was only half. ''I might take you up on that''

A smile came onto hers, so wide he expected her face to split. ''Great! I'm really sorry about that again, and I hope to see you around, Edgar.


End file.
